The Essay
by inky2
Summary: Keisuke writes an R-rated essay to prove a point to Takeshi. (In this Alternate Universe, Takeshi is an English teacher.) YAOI


The Essay  
an Initial D fanfic by inky  
---  
  
Warnings:  
yaoi; sexual content and profanity; fluffy, sweet Plot-What-Plot smut; slightly Alternate-Universe to meet the requirements for the Takeshi-sensei contest; no racing; changing Point-of-Views  
--  
  
  
_Write an essay (3-5 pages) about how a modern invention has improved your life. Demonstrate mastery of English first-person past tense._  
  
"A modern invention? Couldn't he think of anything more exciting?"  
  
Keisuke Takahashi stuffed the assignment sheet into his back pocket and fished a notebook out from under a pile of racing magazines and snack wrappers. A few chips fell from a not-quite-empty bag. He popped one into his mouth before shoving the pile off of his desk and sifting through another.  
  
"I wonder if--ugh, stale--I wonder if rotary engines count." He grabbed another chip and ate it while checking his pockets. "He's a biased bastard, though. He'd probably mark someone down for writing about Mazdas--dammit, this is hopeless. Not even a pencil?"  
  
The sound of his cousin's giggling interrupted his monologue. He turned to the open doorway.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I was going to ask you to close your door because I have a friend coming over, but now I'm worried about you."  
  
"Because I don't have a pen?"  
  
She stepped into his room--something she'd never done voluntarily.  
  
"Tsugumi?"  
  
"Because you talk to yourself more than Grandmother does. Does it hurt to go senile so early?" She laughed again and ran down the hall.  
  
She could have at least given him a pen before leaving.  
  
+++++  
  
Modern technology would be better if people used it right.  
  
Like my cell phone would be great if people knew when to hang up. I keep it in my pocket, you know? If I don't answer right away, they should hang up already. It's not like they need to be polite and give me time to answer it because two rings is plenty of time to grab it from my pocket... if I'm wearing pants. They need to realize that if I don't answer by the third ring, I'm not wearing any pants and it's too bad for them, but there's only one person I want to talk to when my pants are off.  
  
Got it? If it rings more than two times, be assured that I'm screwing that person or I'm sleeping to regain the energy to screw him again. Hang up.  
  
I'd complain more, but the last time someone kept calling something good actually came from it.  
  
It was a Monday morning. I hate them. After a weekend spent mostly with my boyfriend, going home for another week of being the good son my parents want me to be is depressing. Something tells me it won't be safe to move from home until one of us gets married. Preferably one of us boys, but given what I suspect about my brother's preferences, my parents will have to be satisfied by our cousin getting married. Since she's sixteen, that's at least two more years.  
  
+++++  
  
Ryousuke walked into his bedroom and stopped short. His brother was sitting at the desk, using his laptop.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Oh, you're back already." Keisuke spread his hands in front of the screen.  
  
"Keisuke!" Ryousuke hurried to his desk. "Just what are you doing?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You have to hide 'nothing'?" He pushed Keisuke's hands away from the screen. Ah, it was nothing to be too alarmed about; it was just text.  
  
"It's an essay. I couldn't find a pen and since you weren't home..."  
  
Ryousuke moved the laptop so it was facing him.  
  
"In English?"  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"Wait a minute, what are you implying about my 'preferences'? You can't write that."  
  
"It's not a class assignment, I'm just practicing."  
  
"Since when do you practice anything besides driving?"  
  
"Aniki--"  
  
"No, it's okay. Too bad you couldn't have dated a teacher back in highschool, though--you would have made better grades. He's been a good influence on you. Still, that's not how you write an essay. ... Hey, don't pout." Ryousuke ruffled Keisuke's hair. "Write a proper essay and I'll help you with your English."  
  
"Great."  
  
Keisuke didn't move. Ryousuke tapped the laptop.  
  
"Keisuke, the program I need is on this computer."  
  
"Oh, but..."  
  
Ryousuke opened the desk's drawer and pulled out a pen. "Here. Go write."  
  
Keisuke stood up. "Can I do it in here?"  
  
"Don't you ever want to be alone?"  
  
"No. Why would I?"  
  
Ryousuke shook his head. "Do whatever you want. Just let me get some work done."  
  
"Great." Keisuke grabbed his notebook and flopped down on the bed. "You won't even know that I'm here."  
  
Strangely enough, Keisuke was almost right. He worked quietly for two hours. Ryousuke wouldn't have known he was there, if he hadn't been distracted by his own amazement at Keisuke's continued concentration.  
  
After saving his work on a simulation of his latest theory for fastest driving, Ryousuke took a few minutes to watch his brother. Who knew that the brat could focus on something like that?  
  
"Keisuke, it's time to eat."  
  
"I'm almost finished." Keisuke waved the pen at him and went back to writing.  
  
Ryousuke leaned over the bed and pulled his notebook away, briefly glancing at the mix of Roman letters and hiragana scrawled across the page.  
  
"I'll help you with this after dinner. Don't make everyone wait."  
  
"You could bring me dinner."  
  
"I've told you before, no food in my room. I don't want crumbs in my bed."  
  
"Hey, you need something in your bed." Keisuke dodged his swat and lead the way out of the room.  
  
+++++  
  
It was early Monday morning and a phone was ringing. I grabbed a pillow, tugged it towards me, and buried my head beneath it.  
  
"Shithead, that's my pillow."  
  
My boyfriend has a lot of pet names for me. It's kind of sweet, really.  
  
The phone kept ringing. It had to be a total idiot on the other end, someone without the sense to hang up--an idiot, or my grandmother with a cell phone. She buys them because they are "cute, and colorful, and look! How small!" but she can't actually read the writing on the buttons. She just randomly pokes them.  
  
After five rings, the phone stopped, only to start again immediately. Great. It wasn't an idiot; it was someone really insistent who knew that I didn't check my voice mail. I pulled the blanket over my head. It had to be my brother or Kenta.  
  
"Takeshi, make it stop."  
  
"It's your damn phone."  
  
"Is that a 'no'?"  
  
He didn't answer, but a moment later, he rolled over on top of me and asked where my pants were. Like I care where my pants are when he's pinning me to the mattress. Right then I hoped to never see them again.  
  
Well, I couldn't drive without them on, I guess--other racers might get nervous. That could be a good thing, though. I would win even more if they were distracted by the knowledge that I was pantless. I'd try it, but it might get my FD's leather interior all sweaty. I wouldn't do that to my car. The back seat of Takeshi's 32, on the other hand...  
  
+++++  
  
"Keisuke, what is this?"  
  
"Well, I'm not really good at essays so I decided to write it like a story. Cool, huh?"  
  
Ryousuke flipped through the rest of the pages that Keisuke had given him. "Don't tell me this is all about you and Nakazato in bed."  
  
"Oh, no, of course not. Most of it has nothing to do with the bed."  
  
Ryousuke eyed the first page again. "That's good."  
  
"But you did say that I should be comfortable talking to you about sex and stuff."  
  
"When you were fourteen and asking about girls."  
  
"Yeah, see? I am comfortable." Keisuke smiled at him and settled back on the bed.  
  
He looked entirely too comfortable.  
  
Ryousuke turned the page.  
  
+++++  
  
Anyway, Takeshi was leaning across me sort of diagonal-like. It was nice, but it could have been better. I wriggled under him--I wanted the warmth of the blankets, but I also wanted my butt to be pressed up against a more interesting bit of him.  
  
What? I'm not always top. I take it however I can get it.  
  
The phone stopped again. Yes.  
  
He settled more firmly on top of me and yanked his pillow from my grasp.  
  
"You are so fucking lazy. I am not your secretary."  
  
Hell yeah. Our warm bed, my lover on top of me, the low rumble of his voice like a rough caress: those things definitely combine to make me fucking lazy. I could be lazy fucking, too, if he wanted. A winter morning like this would be perfect for a long, slow screw.  
  
"Takeshi--"  
  
The phone began to ring.  
  
"--damn, make it stop."  
  
He leaned over the side of the bed to scoop my pants up from the floor. The shift in position did interesting things where our hips were pressed together.  
  
"Could you have any more pockets in these things?"  
  
I shrugged and rolled onto my back, pressing against the thigh between my legs. Being woken up so early wasn't such a bad thing after all. Now there was extra time--time to slide my hands over his hips and...  
  
You know, when I was dating girls, I never met a butt so nice. They have cute, pert little backsides, but Takeshi's--there's nothing quite like having your hands right on the spot where muscular thighs meet a tight butt and knowing you're allowed to grab it and give it the attention it deserves because he's not going to squeal or think you're being too rough. He thinks you're just right.  
  
I mean, he thinks _I'm_ just right. And that's sexy. There is nothing better than a self-assured lover who likes how you handle his body. Well, there is the feeling you get just as you pass your opponent and you just know the battle's over--he'll never regain his lead--but that rush doesn't last as long as this one.  
  
As I was saying, I now had time to let my hands settle at the back of his thighs, to lick at the hollow where his collar bone meets his shoulder, to kiss--my cargo pants as they're tossed in my face?  
  
Just like that he was all the way on the other side of the bed. I glared at him. He met my gaze and then turned his back on me, giving me one sidelong glance before dismissing me.  
  
I know a challenge when one is tossed my way and that glance clearly said, "I'd rather be on the phone than on you." You don't let a challenge like that go.  
  
"This is Nakazato," he said.  
  
He answered my phone like it was his own. If I am the spoiled one, he is the ruler of all he surveys.  
  
Speaking of surveying, his back was to me now--his naked back, naked all the way to his toes. Not that I was looking at his toes.  
  
Had I just been thinking of being bottom? Forget that.  
  
He's always in such a hurry on Mondays. He has no time for me even though it will be five days before he sees me again. I only get glimpses of him as he pulls on clothes one-handed with a cup of coffee in the other. The man has balance. The things he can do with a full cup of coffee and not get burned.  
  
But now, he wasn't hurrying and I needed to investigate. I needed to see what my favorite bits looked like in this light.  
  
His butt is perfect, but I've already mentioned that.  
  
There's that spot right above it, though, the little, ticklish triangle Who knew that in the morning light, that spot softly demands, "Lick me. I want to feel your breath right here"? I could not ignore such a command. I had to obey the urges of my lover's flesh.  
  
Besides, I couldn't remember ever kissing quite that spot. Such an oversight had to be remedied immediately.  
  
I crawled across the sheets, only to hear, "Sorry, Ryousuke, the princess doesn't want to talk."  
  
The princess, eh? I'd show him "princess."   
  
I bit him.  
  
"Ow!" He jumped away from the bed and rubbed his wounded cheek. He was glaring, but at least he was facing me again.  
  
"Your brother just bit me! ... No, I am not going to tell you where."  
  
+++++  
  
"So that's where you bit him. I did wonder."  
  
Keisuke nodded.  
  
"But that was only this week."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"If you keep grinning like that, I'm going to stop reading."  
  
"No, you won't. You know you're curious."  
  
"Brat."  
  
+++++  
  
I stood and slipped my arms around his waist.  
  
"Screw this, you're both a pain in the ass." Takeshi shoved the phone at me and twisted out of my embrace.  
  
"Takeshi? Keisuke? Hello?"  
  
I answered my brother as our bedroom door slammed shut.  
  
"Not now, Aniki. I think he's mad at me."  
  
"Of course he's mad at you. Now, listen."  
  
It's not my fault that I didn't hear what he said next. The door flew open and Takeshi walked back into the room. I think I forgot to breathe for a minute. You'd think someone mad and naked would look ridiculous, not so fucking hot.  
  
Takeshi grabbed his robe from its hook, shoved his arms into the sleeves, and yanked it closed. Everything above his knees disappeared under black silk. He tied the belt and left again.  
  
I checked the clock, deciding to give myself fifteen minutes to peel that robe off. Under normal circumstances that would be too much time, but I had to take Takeshi's anger into account. I was planning my first move when I heard my brother's voice.  
  
"Where are they?"  
  
"Huh? Who?"  
  
"What? Aren't you listening? What have you done with my car keys?"  
  
"I don't have them. You'd never give me your keys."  
  
"Please, Keisuke, think. Before you left yesterday, remember? I asked you to help Tsugumi put her special school project in the car."  
  
"Oh, yeah." I don't know what her project was, but there must have been four concrete blocks in each of her school bags. "That was really heavy. Why did you make me carry it?"  
  
"Where are my keys?"  
  
"Um..."  
  
I picked up my pants and shook them. A condom, half a chocolate bar, my Zippo, and some other stuff fell from the pockets onto the mattress. I tucked the condom under my pillow for later inspiration and pushed everything else onto the floor. Thinking again, I picked the chocolate back up. Extra energy, you know.  
  
"Please tell me they are not with you."  
  
"I don't think so." I kicked the laundry at my feet; nothing jingled. "Maybe I left them in my room."  
  
"Oh great. It would have been faster for you to bring them to me."  
  
"No, check my room. Maybe near the bucket seat."  
  
"No, really, I could walk to Myougi and get the keys from you faster. I don't know how he puts up with you."  
  
"Hey--"  
  
Takeshi returned with two coffee cups and held the yellow one out to me. I took it, sipped, and smiled. It was so overloaded with sugar that I couldn't taste the coffee; it was perfect.  
  
"He does it 'cause he loves me, Aniki. Bye."  
  
I dropped the phone onto the pile of laundry and took the other cup from him. I set them on the bedside table and pulled him onto the bed for a long kiss.  
  
"I hate coffee."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I drink it only because it tastes so damn good on you."  
  
He chuckled and lay back against the pillows. "That so?"  
  
I moved on top of him--taking another long moment to kiss the smugness from his expression--and smiled.  
  
"Yes. Forgive me?"  
  
"Yeah, it's not your fault that you're such a spoiled brat."  
  
"Exactly! That's what I always say. And have I told you how sexy you are when you scowl?" I undid his belt.  
  
He grabbed my wrist. "You still bit me."  
  
"Roll over and I'll kiss it better."  
  
"Keisuke..."  
  
"I love it when you growl." I moved lower on the bed, opening the robe and kissing his bared skin. "I swear, the vibrations go straight to my crotch."  
  
"Oh, like that's sexy."  
  
"Better believe it. Sexy like a mole."  
  
He laughed. "Idiot, isn't that supposed to be 'sly like a fox'?"  
  
"No, definitely a mole." I pulled his robe open farther and touched the birthmark below his navel. "This mole." I kissed it.  
  
"Ah, I see." He reached down, his fingers curling in my hair.  
  
I kissed him again and then licked a line leading lower.  
  
"Come on, roll over, I'll make it all better."  
  
He spread his legs a little and I nudged the robe away from his thighs. A few nuzzles and kisses--and one long, slow lick--later, I sat back and grinned. It had been twelve minutes; Takeshi might grumble a lot but he always melts under the right touch.  
  
No one can beat my time.  
  
The alarm clock went off. He rolled, hit the button, and hopped out of bed.  
  
"Hey, there's still time to finish this."  
  
He tugged the robe back around him and grabbed his coffee mug. "No."  
  
I stroked him through the silk.  
  
"What about this? You can't go to work that way. You'll scare the girls. I can hear them now talking about the monster in sensei's pants."  
  
He gulped down the rest of his coffee.  
  
"Don't be an idiot."  
  
"Okay... so they wouldn't be scared. They'd all be plotting how to get in your pants, hoping for extra credit points, and I know you don't want that."  
  
"I don't mind, at least they're a lot smarter than you. They know they should only try to kiss my ass, not bite it."  
  
"But you could lose your job."  
  
He put his hand over mine. "You know, your concern for me is really touching."  
  
"So let's go back to bed."  
  
"Not necessary." He kissed my cheek. "If you are sleepy, you go back to bed, princess. I'll take care of this in the shower."  
  
"What? That's not fair!"  
  
Takeshi was already in the bathroom with the shower running.  
  
"But you can't do that."  
  
"Why not? I can't be late for work."  
  
"You just can't, it's... it's not polite. You have to share a hard on with the guy who gave it to you."  
  
"My boyfriend, the queer etiquette columnist." He laughed and stepped into the shower. "Pardon me, Miss Manners? Would you mind handing me my razor?"  
  
Princess. Miss Manners. Some pet names are cute. Some piss me off.  
  
I took his razor from the counter. I wasn't really mad, I don't think. It was just time for him to stop being so amused.  
  
"Here you go."  
  
I reached in. As soon as he took the razor, I yanked on the shower control, turning it to--  
  
"Dammit! Keisuke!"  
  
--pretty damn cold.  
  
What happened next, hell, if Takeshi could drive that fast maybe he would have won our race. I'm glad he didn't, because as much as it hurt--and shit, did it ever hurt, being slammed against the wall so hard I thought my spine would snap against the towel rack and he would just fold me and leave me there to hang--I'm glad we're together. We wouldn't have gotten together if he had won. He doesn't hold a grudge like I can.  
  
Ah, but my back hurt. Takeshi had my shoulders pinned against the wall. He was just an arm's length away from me--this naked, wet, furious man. Not sexy at all, right?  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you? All you had to do was join me in the shower. Don't you even have half a brain?"  
  
Wrong.  
  
The pain was mostly from surprise. Yeah, my shoulders stung a little, but he was so mad, and the towel rack digging into my spine was pushing my hips forward, and the anger really brought out the muscles in his arms and somehow--maybe my sense of smell kicked into overdrive from adrenaline--every breath I took was filled with him. I was drawing him into my lungs. All I could think was "Finally."  
  
Finally he's mad enough to fuck me properly.  
  
He was yelling and I couldn't even hear what he was saying.  
  
I told you that sure, I can be bottom, I take whatever I can get, right? But I am rarely bottom.  
  
We have different styles, you see. Me, I take what I can get as long as I can get it "Now!" Takeshi, he... damn.  
  
The man is pure torture as top. He's so... thorough. He's all slow hands and lingering tongue with this smirk behind his eyes and you know, you know he's getting off on seeing you writhe and gasp and beg and as much as I like it, I break every time, slamming him into the mattress, seizing control, gods, and screwing till we can't see. Because I have to. Because even as I'm wresting control from him, I know. I know that if he didn't want me to have it, there's not a chance I ever would.  
  
But he's mad now. Mad enough that I think I'm actually going to get fucked and nothing else is worth concentrating on.  
  
I feel a pulse where his hands are pinning my shoulders. I don't know whose heartbeat it is, but I stare at that wrist. I think I see his pulse jump there--it doesn't matter if it's all in my head. Now I can feel that same throbbing everywhere. My chest, my thighs--and, of course, it goes without saying, my dick--they're all under his control now. I ache.  
  
I don't know how to say how much I want him right then.  
  
He has to notice. My boxers can't hide--  
  
"Takeshi..."  
  
I stop as I recognize his look. Yes. He knows, but does nothing.  
  
I crane my neck and lick his wrist, feeling that beat against my tongue. If he doesn't do something, I'll--  
  
He yanks me forward and pushes me into the ice cold shower.  
  
Shit.  
  
How I didn't have a heart attack, I don't know. I want to fight him, but I can't. Maybe my body is in shock. I'm trembling, and he's right behind me--out of the water, but holding me there.  
  
"Fix the water, Keisuke."  
  
Oh yeah, the shower control. I'd forgotten.  
  
I crank it over and wait for warmth. As it heats up, he pushes me forward. I put my hands against the tiles before my face gets smashed into the wall like my back was just moments ago.  
  
We're both in the water now. He's right behind me, arm tight around my waist, and his other hand...  
  
Oh, his other hand is on me, stroking me through my wet boxers, and my body is forgetting the shock it just had.  
  
"Your brother isn't the only one who doesn't know why I put up with you."  
  
The water is warm now. His hand is somehow rough and slow. I wish he'd take the boxers off.  
  
He moves even closer. He's hard and he's wedged up against me. Damn these boxers. I take my hands from the tiles so I can rip the damn things from me if I have to.  
  
My face meets tile after all. Swift, but not too hard. At least it's my cheek hitting the tile instead of my nose.  
  
"Don't."  
  
Hell, no problem, I can't.  
  
He moves against me, rocking his hips and pleasing himself as surely as his hand does me. Probably more so, because his hand stills.  
  
I push back against him. Just let me lose the boxers.  
  
"Please, Takeshi..."  
  
He kisses the back of my neck--a kiss with teeth.  
  
Please.  
  
"You're not the sun, Kei. The world doesn't revolve around you."  
  
"Yes, Takeshi... it's yours."  
  
Please, just the boxers...  
  
The phone rings. Someone is going to die.  
  
He goes to answer it.  
  
I'll do the killing myself.  
  
+++++  
  
Ryousuke took a deep breath and looked away from the pages. Keisuke was watching him.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Uh..." He shifted in his chair. "Ah, what's with the tense change, Keisuke?"  
  
"Tense change?"  
  
"You started writing in the past tense, but somewhere you slip into present tense. That's not--"  
  
Keisuke waved his hand.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, tense. Whatever. Just check the spelling and vocabulary, okay? Keep your editorial comments to yourself."  
  
Ryousuke frowned, but continued to read without further comment.  
  
+++++  
  
I couldn't believe he'd left. I know he'd been enjoying it. Shit. I stepped out of my soaked boxers, dropping them to the floor of the shower. Damn him for being so responsible. By the time he got back from the call--if he even chose to come back--there wouldn't be enough time to finish what he'd started. It wasn't fair.  
  
I leaned forward against the tiles again, hand on myself, imitating his rhythm.  
  
Suddenly I realized that the water was barely a trickle.  
  
"Huh? What?"  
  
"Hey, don't you know you have to share that with the guy who gave it to you?"  
  
He was actually back? "Takeshi?"  
  
"Let me help you with that."  
  
He pulled me away from the wall, stepping in front of me and distracting me with a kiss while he caught my wrist and pressed my palm flat against his chest.  
  
"There's better things this hand could be doing."  
  
"I don't know, I kind of liked it."  
  
I kissed his temple and then gasped as he cupped me between his hands. I moved my hand away from his chest--for some reason he's not as sensitive there as I am--and dug my nails lightly into his side, right below his armpit, earning an answering gasp and a bite on the neck.  
  
"What about work?"  
  
He pulled away, pushing aside the shower curtain. Idiot, Keisuke! I should learn when to shut up.  
  
But he didn't leave. He grabbed something from the counter and then pushed me farther from the water.  
  
"Let me worry about that."  
  
He thwapped my nose with what he had in his hand--a condom packet--and pushed me back against the wall and proceeded to slowly roll the condom on... me.  
  
So no getting screwed this morning, but hell if I'm going to complain when he's so confidently taking what he wants.  
  
He pressed a bottle into my hand and turned his back on me, reaching up to adjust the shower head, letting the water flow freely again, keeping the pose a moment making me marvel at the beauty of his shoulder definition. It's been four months and I still find myself amazed by him. I could come just looking at him as I put lube on myself.  
  
"Hey, Miss Manners! Do I have to send you an engraved invitation?"  
  
+++++  
  
Ryousuke stood up suddenly, setting the pages on the desk.  
  
"Aniki?"  
  
"I have to go. I ... forgot something I had to do tonight."  
  
Keisuke hopped up and looked at the pages Ryou had marked. "There's only three pages left. Don't you have time to finish?"  
  
Ryousuke grabbed his phone and car keys. "No, I... no, Keisuke."  
  
"But your English is so much better than mine."  
  
"You're giving this to Nakazato to read, right?"  
  
Kei nodded.  
  
"I marked your mistakes on the first pages and filled in where you reverted back to Japanese. I think he won't notice mistakes by this point."  
  
"That's good. I want to show him I'm better than those kiss-ass students of his."  
  
Ryou pocketed his phone and stepped toward the door. He stopped, glanced at Keisuke, and pulled a sweater out of his dresser.  
  
"Use the computer if you want. I'll be back late."  
  
"Are you sure you can't read the rest? I wasn't sure about the ending."  
  
Ryousuke quickly unbuttoned his shirt, hung it back in the closet, and pulled on the sweater.  
  
"I'm sure it's fine." He left.  
  
Keisuke picked up the pages and glanced at the corrections his brother had made. He chewed thoughtfully on the pen.  
  
+++  
  
Ryousuke opened the garage and stood a moment before dialing his phone. He unlocked his car door while it rang.  
  
"Sudou? Ryousuke. Listen, about that offer you made after Fujiwara and Kogashiwa's race... Yes. Tonight."  
  
He sat in the car.  
  
"If my answer is 'yes,' does it really matter why it is yes?"  
  
He chuckled and started the engine.  
  
"Thought not. I'll meet you there."  
  
+++  
  
Keisuke stared at the last few pages. They weren't quite right. Would Takeshi consider it sexy? Reading about himself being done in such a cheap porn flick style? He might find it kind of creepy. Too many thrusts and moans but nothing... erotic.  
  
But he couldn't really remember what exactly he'd done. He wouldn't have been able to say even ten minutes after. What he did--that was just sex--maybe damn good sex, but just sex nonetheless. It wasn't like this time--or even Takeshi--was his first. What he'd done was an easily forgettable porn flick--what he'd felt--damn.  
  
He closed his eyes. Oh, his body was swift to remember pleasure--perhaps too swift. He quickly adjusted himself.  
  
No, it wasn't the thrusting and pounding and the clenching tightness around him that he wanted to Takeshi to know about. It was the feeling like his heart would burst, that made his chest ache feeling stretched from something overwhelming. The feeling that not only continued after orgasm and pulling away, but intensified when Takeshi shut off the water and turned around, pulling him forward and kissing him.  
  
Yeah, he remembered _that_.  
  
He remembered the kiss and the deep chuckle as Takeshi helped rid him of the condom. "Come on, Keisuke, easy clean up means faster 'let's go back and finish this in bed.'"  
  
How could he forget the feeling of Takeshi's hand skimming down his back and how all he wanted to do was spend the rest of the day kissing him? Or the sound of Takeshi's voice as he began to get a bit impatient?  
  
"Have you noticed we're water-logged, love? Come on. Bed, remember? Bed? Boyfriend? Blow job?"  
  
That was it; Keisuke was sure he hadn't imagined it.  
  
He tossed the last pages at Ryousuke's wastepaper basket and began again.  
  
+++++  
  
Engraved invitation?  
  
Like I needed one. Not this time. Not ever. I wanted him too much, but--  
  
"Nah, I'll overlook your bad manners this time."  
  
--he didn't need to know right then that I am his, whenever, however he asks.  
  
As much as I liked watching the water streaming down his back, I tugged him out of it long enough to get some more lube and nudge his legs apart. I touched him, letting my fingers work as my lips brushed the back of his ear.  
  
"In fact, just this once, I think you should have really bad manners."  
  
He moved back against me. "Really?"  
  
I reached around and tugged lightly on the curls between his legs.  
  
"Keisuke!" He grabbed my wrist hard.  
  
"Really." I nipped his ear--and nudged his legs a bit more, withdrawing my hand. "I want to hear some profanity."  
  
He guided my hand to his body and kept his hand there.  
  
"Mm... something like 'fuck me, shithead'?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that."  
  
"Fuck me, Kei."  
  
So I did, pressing inside him with the tension of his hand on mine as the guide to knowing I wasn't too fast.  
  
And then... hell. I don't need to write all the details, do I? I pushed him forward and he braced his free hand on the wall and I screwed my boyfriend.  
  
It's always so damn good to be inside him. And this time, I don't know if it was all the teasing before hand or what, but this time it was even better. I couldn't have been thinking. How could I think when I felt so good and he was being really vocal, just like I asked, and my body plunged ahead just needing him? But somehow I was also aware of the enormity of what was happening.  
  
This was Nakazato Takeshi. He could just as easily hate me for being the insufferable brat that continues to beat him in our private battles--though his times are damn impressive when we're not battling. There's no logical reason for him to be letting me do this. He's so sexy, he could have anyone he wanted.  
  
Stupid time for this to occur to me after we've been dating for months, but suddenly, wham, like a fist to the heart, like... like being slammed against the towel rack and called a fucking moron, it hits me. There really is no reason for him to be doing this, except he wants me.  
  
Me.  
  
And he's been with me long enough to know there's a good reason Aniki calls me "brat."  
  
He wants me.  
  
And damn, my heart must have stopped because it hurt so. I think I'm scared. I should be scared, because I'm in love.  
  
I could write ten more pages on how much I like doing this with him, but... there's no point really. He knows quite well already, don't you, Takeshi?  
  
I don't know if you remember, but you called me "love" afterwards. I think that's a better pet name than "princess," don't you?  
  
And, hey, just for the record, this means I've beaten you yet again. 'Cause I'm telling you I love you first.  
  
+++++  
  
"That shithead."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Takeshi looked up and blushed.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in."  
  
He slipped the pages in his hand under some of the papers he was grading.  
  
"No kidding. You looked really absorbed. Your students must write better essays than any of mine do. Mind if I sit down here?"  
  
"No, go ahead."  
  
His colleague smiled at him and sat across from him. She had two cups of coffee.  
  
"Actually, I brought you some, too."  
  
She pushed it across the table and smiled again.  
  
Keisuke would have a fit if he knew that it wasn't just the students who wanted to kiss his ass.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
+++++  
  
Ryousuke was debating the merits of making another trip to Nikko that Monday afternoon. Most of his research was done. Keisuke had returned from Myougi in unusually high spirits and was even getting along well with Tsugumi. He did not have any plans for the team for the next two days--and he really wanted to see Sudou again.  
  
When the phone rang, he hoped for just a second that it might be Sudou having a similar debate with himself. He checked the display. Now that was odd.  
  
"Nakazato? This isn't Keisuke's number."  
  
"Hello to you, too, Takahashi. I can see where Keisuke got his endearing phone manner."  
  
"Sorry, Takeshi. I just didn't want to get an earful of sex talk for my brother if you hadn't meant to call me."  
  
"No, those would be the calls he makes to me."  
  
"Really? What--no, never mind. None of my business. If this isn't a mistake, why did you call?"  
  
"I need a favor."  
  
"Oh?" Ryousuke leaned back in his chair. This could be interesting.  
  
"Yes. Your brother, it seems, likes to sneak into people's briefcases and leave surprises there."  
  
"So that's what he wrote it for."  
  
"What?"  
  
"This is about that essay, isn't it?"  
  
"He let you read it?"  
  
If there were a contest for turning simple words into thunderous threats without even raising one's voice, Kyouichi would find some serious competition in Takeshi. Ryousuke was suitably impressed.  
  
"No, I just know that he typed an essay on my computer and since you teach English..."  
  
"Yes, it's about that essay."  
  
"What can I do for you?"  
  
"If I send you something, will you put it in Keisuke's car so he'll find it on Friday before he leaves for here? He needs his own surprise."  
  
"Sure, no problem. Hey, Takeshi? Why didn't you go to work a week ago?"  
  
"How do you know about that?"  
  
"He didn't come home till Tuesday. He had to give some explanation."  
  
"School was cancelled because of a power outage. I'll get the package to you by Thursday. Thank you for doing this, but Ryousuke? Just put it in the car, don't read it."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Nakazato hung up before Ryousuke could inform him that he wasn't nosy, just... understandably curious--as any older brother might be.  
  
+++++  
  
Nothing remarkable happened on Tuesday. Nothing--except Keisuke seemed a bit worried about his phone.  
  
"Aniki, is it possible to accidentally hit a button or something and make it not accept any calls?"  
  
"Can you make calls?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's fine. Leave it alone."  
  
+++++  
  
On Wednesday, Keisuke bought a new cell phone battery.  
  
"Keisuke, I told you nothing was wrong with it."  
  
"Well, something's wrong!"  
  
+++++  
  
A courier delivered a package requiring Ryousuke's signature on Thursday afternoon.  
  
Keisuke answered the door.  
  
"Shouji Shingo? That's strange--Aniki! You have to sign for this!"  
  
The courier girl winced as he yelled and took a step back. He smiled at her as they waited. She returned his smile.  
  
"So, what is this? Why can only Aniki sign for it?"  
  
The girl blinked. "That's just the way it was sent."  
  
"Rat bastard."  
  
The girl's smile wavered.  
  
"Oh, it's here. Thank you." Ryousuke waved his brother away. "Keisuke, stop hovering."  
  
He signed for the package, masking his amusement at the sender's address. Shouji, eh? Takeshi must have realized that Keisuke might see it.  
  
"You were expecting that? What is it? Is it some sort of challenge? Bastard's not good enough to challenge you. Takeshi shouldn't have let him challenge you. No, Takeshi wouldn't have let him. Aniki, don't accept it. He's probably making another power play for leadership of the Night Kids."  
  
"Keisuke, breathe."  
  
"I am breathing." Keisuke shoved his fingers through his hair and took a couple deep breaths. "See? So what is it?"  
  
"It's not a challenge. Really, would a guy that drives a Civic pay to have a courier express deliver a challenge?"  
  
"... no."  
  
"I asked him to send me some data."  
  
Yeah, right. That was a terrible explanation.  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
Ryousuke tapped the express envelope against his thigh. "Well... I'm going back to my work now."  
  
He turned. His brother followed.  
  
"Keisuke, you're making me nervous. What's eating you?"  
  
"Aniki... I need to go to Myougi tonight--you can make it okay with Mom and Dad."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"This is really important."  
  
"It's Thursday. Remember? You can't go tonight. I have a late class. Mom and Dad are not here. There has to be an adult in the house with Tsugumi."  
  
"But you could skip class."  
  
"And you could sell the FD and take up bicycling."  
  
"Aniki--"  
  
"Just tell me what's so important."  
  
"He hasn't called me all week and he isn't answering my calls."  
  
"Ah, this is about Takeshi."  
  
"Of course, it's about Takeshi. There's nothing else important in Myougi."  
  
"Maybe he's busy with school. Between you and the Night Kids I can't imagine that he gets any work done on the weekends."  
  
"He hasn't called at all! Not even to say 'good night.' He always calls to say 'good night.'"  
  
"Maybe something came up."  
  
"Yeah, something came up--something really important happened and he would have made the time no matter what to call me, it was that important. No matter how busy he was, he would call me--unless he's really mad at me for it instead of happy."  
  
"Is this about that essay?"  
  
"Yes! Dammit, I shouldn't have--"  
  
"Even on the off chance that he didn't really enjoy it, he would not get mad about a little harmless smut."  
  
"There was more to it than smut. If he's mad, I have to see him. And maybe he's not mad, maybe he's just shocked and I need to see him. I have to explain, and... please, Aniki."  
  
"I'm sorry, Keisuke, I can't skip class. You need to be here tonight. And I'm sure everything is okay with Takeshi--"  
  
"But--"  
  
"Look, I'll see what I can do about tonight. Just don't leave."  
  
Keisuke left his room.  
  
Poor guy. Just what the hell was in those last three pages?  
  
He opened the express envelope. Inside there was a large manilla envelope, a small vellum envelope with his brother's name, and a short note thanking him for his help. He flipped the envelopes over. They were both sealed. No explanations that way.  
  
He set them aside and opened a text book, he'd have to wait until high school classes let out.  
  
+++  
  
"This is Nakazato."  
  
"Takeshi, call your boyfriend before he does something really stupid like rushing to Myougi tonight when he should be home with our cousin."  
  
"Hello, Ryousuke. Your phone manners are still--"  
  
"I don't know what this is all about, but you've made him angst."  
  
"'Angst'? Keisuke?"  
  
"Yes. Well... whatever answers for angst when you're a hyperactive chipmunk."  
  
"Ah, Pikachu angst."  
  
"Yes. So call him. Even if he's pissed you off, he deserves to know you're mad."  
  
"He hasn't pissed me off."  
  
"Then call him."  
  
"That will ruin the surprise."  
  
"Is the surprise really worth it?"  
  
"Poor shithead, I should have realized he'd take it like this..."  
  
"Are you going to call him?"  
  
"Well, at least I know he was really sincere."  
  
"Are you going to call him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Nakazato--"  
  
"Easy there, Ryousuke. Look, give him the envelopes now, but after he reads them tell him he can't talk to me until he sees me tomorrow. Tell him... tell him it's too important not to say in person."  
  
"That's a really shitty way of breaking up with him."  
  
Takeshi laughed. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Takahashi. I'm not breaking up with him."  
  
+++  
  
Ryousuke knocked on Keisuke's door. Keisuke bounded to it and threw it open.   
  
"You've decided to skip class?"  
  
"No, I--am I crazy or is it almost clean in here?"  
  
"I can't sit still. Aniki, what do I have to convince you to let me leave?"  
  
Ryousuke put his hand flat on Keisuke's chest and pushed him towards the bed.  
  
"Slow down." He handed him the vellum envelope. "Open this."  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"No clue. Open it."  
  
Keisuke did. He pulled out a card of plain--but clearly expensive--white paper. Crisp navy lettering proclaimed, "You are cordially invited."  
  
Keisuke stared at it. "It's an engraved invitation."  
  
"So I see. To what?"  
  
"This is from Takeshi."  
  
"It came in the package today."  
  
Keisuke opened it and then dropped it before Ryousuke could see what it said.  
  
"Damn, I should have seen that coming." Keisuke laughed and picked up the card. He looked at it again.  
  
"Bastard thinks he's so smart."  
  
"What is it?"   
  
Keisuke smiled and handed it to him.  
  
The printing inside said, "to be fucked by your boyfriend."  
  
The handwritten note below it said, "My apartment, the regular time, I'll be waiting. Nakazato."  
  
"P.S. Shithead, if you wanted to be topped, all you had to do was ask."  
  
"P.P.S. Read your grade before you get here."  
  
Ryousuke handed it back to Keisuke. "I can't believe he got someone to print that invitation."  
  
"I can. He can be really persuasive."  
  
"So... you're okay?"  
  
"Hell yeah. Where's my grade?"  
  
Ryousuke gave him the manilla envelope.  
  
"Maybe in here." He stood. "I need to get ready for class... But, Keisuke? He said he can't talk to you until he sees you tomorrow. Something's too important not to say in person."  
  
"He sent me an engraved invitation. I suppose I can wait a little longer to hear it in person."  
  
His essay was in the other envelope. He flipped through the pages, but didn't see any comments on it.  
  
"Huh."  
  
He turned it over. _Student exhibits better mastery of English than expected, but could use some work on understanding the essay form. Points were deducted for greatly exceeding the stated maximum length, but equal points were awarded for being the best damn ass-kisser I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. B+ (Marked down for one glaring inaccuracy. Shithead, you so did not beat me. I called you "love" first. Don't you forget it.)_  
  
Keisuke grinned.  
  
"I knew that biased bastard would mark me down for something."  
  
  


* * *

+++ OMAKE (extras) +++

**Outtake 1:**  
"It's not a class assignment, I'm just practicing."  
  
"Since when do you practice anything besides driving?"  
  
"Aniki--"  
  
"No, it's okay. Too bad you couldn't have dated a teacher back in highschool, though--you would have made better grades."  
  
Keisuke frowned. "Why didn't you suggest that before?"  
  
"What? I'm just joking, Keisuke."  
  
"You should have said something. Sleeping with the principal did get me my diploma, but my teachers were all better looking."  
  
  
**Outtake 2:**  
"Write a proper essay and I'll help you with your English."  
  
"Great."  
  
Keisuke didn't move. Ryousuke tapped the laptop.  
  
"Keisuke, the porn I need is on this computer."  
  
  
**Outtake 3:**  
Just like that he was all the way on the other side of the bed. I glared at him. He met my gaze and then turned his back on me, giving me one sidelong glance before dismissing me.  
  
"This is Nakazato," he said.  
  
_"Nakazato? What are you doing answering Keisuke-san's phone? It's six in the morning... wait a minute, I know! You've stolen it. I've told Keisuke-san you Night Kids are no good. Just wait till I see Keisuke-san and tell him what you've done--"_  
  
Takeshi handed me the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Keisuke-san! What... wait... why?"  
  
There was a sound like a phone dropping.  
  
"Kenta, that you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Kenta?"  
  
I hung up and looked at Takeshi. "I think he fainted."  
  
  
**Outtake 4:**  
Takeshi grabbed his robe from its hook, shoved his arms into the sleeves, and yanked it closed. Everything above his knees disappeared under black silk. He tied the belt and left again.  
  
I checked the clock, deciding to give myself fifteen minutes to peel that robe off. The big hand was on the four, so that meant... um... shoot.  
  
"Aniki? Where will the big hand be fifteen minutes from now?"  
  
  
**Outtake 5:**  
"I hate coffee."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I drink it only because it tastes so damn good on you."  
  
He chuckled and lay back against the pillows. "That so?"  
  
I moved on top of him--taking another long moment to kiss the smugness from his expression--and then poured my cup of coffee on him.  
  
  
**Outtake 6:**  
I couldn't believe he'd left. I know he'd been enjoying it. Shit. I stepped out of my soaked boxers, dropping them to the floor of the shower. Damn him for being so responsible. By the time he got back from the call--if he even chose to come back--there wouldn't be enough time to finish what he'd started. It wasn't fair.  
  
I leaned forward against the tiles again, hand on myself, imitating his rhythm.  
  
Suddenly I realized that the water was barely a trickle.  
  
"Huh? What?"  
  
"Ha! I thought so. It's always 'drift, drift, drift' with you--going on about the superiority of drift technique till I'm sick of it. But here you are, in secret, practicing _my_ grip technique."  


* * *

Disclaimer:  
initial D is Shigeno Shuichi, Kodansha, to'max, OB Kikaku. These characters do not belong to inky.  
  
Notes:  
This fic is a gift for Hase (Happy Very-Belated Birthday) and a too-late Takeshi-sensei contest entry. It's also been "cleaned up" slightly for posting here. 


End file.
